Talking 'grief bears' help local family cope

When LeRoy McAllister's wife and daughter want to hear his voice, they hug a bear.

McAllister died July 4, 2012, at Ionia Area Hospice. He was 48. When he entered the facility in April, his wife, Mary, and 21-year-old daughter, Sharon, were struggling with the "anticipatory grief" of losing a husband and father as the three began to prepare for his death, said the Rev. Kris Abbey, chaplain at the hospice.

"Anticipatory grief is what a family experiences when they know someone is going to die," Abbey said. "They begin thinking about next year, and that at this time he won't be here. He won't be here on their birthday. They start dealing with the loss."

Social worker Kim Crawford had used making grief bears as an activity with other families, to help them collect and make memories to hold on to when their loved ones are gone. LeRoy had taught Sharon how to sew, so she made a grief bear for her mom and one for herself – with the skills her father taught her.

"That's part of his legacy, too," Crawford said.

For the McAllisters, she adapted the project to include sound.

As part of the hospice's legacy program, patients and their families often make CDs or MP3 recordings of their loved ones telling special stories, talking about their lives, giving advice, even reading children's stories to leave for their grandchildren.

"The voice is something very important to our families," Crawford said. "People miss the sounds the loved one makes. Many people keep their voice mail messages. They miss their voice. It's a connection with them when people are grieving."

When a family member dies, the feeling of loss can lead to a sense of fear about forgetting not only their voice, but also forgetting them, Crawford said.

"(People say), 'I can't remember their voice anymore.' It's scary, but it comes back," she said, adding that preserving the voice of a loved one eases the fear. "It's important for them to be able to say, 'When I need it, I can hear his voice and hear him say I love you.'"

Crawford bought two small MP3 recorders from Build-A-Bear Workshop and recorded LeRoy, who had messages for his wife and daughter. Then the McAllisters put the recorders inside the bears where their hearts would be.

As part of her grief work, Sharon also made a memory box, painted purple and decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. She filled it with photos of her with her dad and mementos of him: a comb, a leather bracelet he gave her, a snow globe and other reminders of happy times.

And there are plenty of those times to remember. Sharon recalled when her dad taught her how to sew.

"He always said, 'Make it tighter,'" she said. "He told me, 'It's time to learn to sew on your own.'"

Mary said her husband of 24 years was a good man.

"He was good to me. He took care of us," she said. "He loved to play euchre with us. Every Friday night we went to Burger King to listen to Dan Miller, the Country Legend. We always had a ball."

Christmas this year was tough, when they had to go to holiday functions without him. The end of each day is hard, too.

"Every night, Sharon still says, 'Good-night, Daddy,'" said Mary. "I hit the bottom when I go to bed."

Having the grief bears, and LeRoy's voice inside them, helps sometimes when Mary and Sharon are feeling low. But not always.